


Precious Moments

by Animefangirl365



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x10, 12x11, LITERALLY, Snow Angels, Snowball Fight, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10073573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animefangirl365/pseuds/Animefangirl365
Summary: Inspired by:http://www.deviantart.com/art/Supernatural-6-December-418380469A sudden snowfall in Lebanon, Kansas can be a curse or a blessing. Sam picks the latter. There are snowballs and snow angels, and an angel face-down in the snow.These precious moments are small, and often unnoticed until they're gone, but they are precious all the same, and maybe that's all that counts.





	

**Hi…. so I’m currently really stuck on my Yuri!!! on ICE work Colors. I saw a Supernatural fanart and inspiration STRUCK. Like lightning. The image is Dean sitting in the snow with a goofy smile, and Cas is flopped face-down with his arms spread wide. I wanted to give a little story to that; this is the result. Set between episodes 12x10 and 12x11 - basically after the boys reach a “truce” on Castiel’s decision to kill Billie, and before they go after the witches and Dean loses his memory. (I’d file this under the “good” that Dean missed more than being burden free.) I’m also assuming that the events approximately line up with our real-world months, meaning episodes that aired during Winter occurred during Winter. Obviously this gets a bit fudgy with season finales, but… semantics. LOL**

_Well… this_ is _better than before, right?_ That’s what Sam thought, anyways. Dean and Cas had reached a truce last week; before going after Lily, the two of them had been giving and receiving tense, angry silences back and forth, neither wanting to budge. Now, the bunker was still under constant siege of tense, angry silences, just for a different reason; but at least they weren’t directing their frustrations at one another. Sam was getting fed up as well; they had no leads on Kelly, they were spinning their wheels trying to catch the oddball case, and Mary was off doing who knows what - probably working cases, which just dumped another worry on their backs. Overall, things were not rainbows and sunshine in the bunker.

Sam walked over to the fridge and reached to grab a bottle of beer, except there weren’t any. Oh well, they were almost out of food supplies anyways. “Hey Dean! We need to make a run!” He walked back to where Dean sat at the table scrolling for cases, obviously coming up empty-handed. “Fine. I need to get some air anyways.” He closed the lid, grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, and hollered, “Cas, we’re going for a store run! Be back in a bit!” Footsteps came down the hall and Castiel appeared in the doorway. “Considering the presence and… record, of the British Men of Letters, I would feel more at ease if I went with you.” Dean sighed and roughly rubbed the back of his neck. “Whatever, man. Fine.” And so the three of them loaded up in the Impala - Dean driving, Sam riding shotgun, and Cas in the back as always.

At the store, they grabbed the beer and other food staples, including some pie, and walked out. “Ah, crap!” exclaimed Dean. Stepping out of the store revealed a sudden onset of snow - and it was coming fast. With a normally forty-minute drive out to the bunker’s obscure location, Dean was not looking forward to how much snow they’d have to deal with, especially going slower to accommodate the dangerous weather conditions.

Sure enough, by the time they were halfway back, it had already taken 30 minutes. Another 35 passed, and they were finally nearing the turn-off road. Right as the Impala’s tires hit the practically invisible path, the sudden snow simply stopped. With nearly 6 inches from whenever it started while in the store, they had a quick reprieve with clear vision to finish out the trip. Dean parked the car in front of the bunker and opened his door, preparing to plunge his foot into the blanket of half-frozen water particles. After planting both feet into the cold, he stood up and -

A snowball broke on the back of his head. Spluttering at the sudden cold running down his neck, he turned and found a grinning Sam and a baffled Cas on his brother’s side of the car. With a challenging smirk, he bent to his knees and scooped up his own ammunition, flinging it at his laughing brother once he stood up above the roof of the Impala again. Dean frowned when it simply collided with the side of Sam’s shoulder, and then quickly ducked when another packed ball of fluffy snow came hurtling from Sam’s other side.

And so it began; a sudden snowball fight between two brothers while their Angel best friend stood to the side, observing the spontaneous foolishness.

After a few more throws, they started simply trying to push each other into the snow drifts. Sam went down first, and Dean overbalanced and fell the other way. Sam felt a laugh bubble out of his chest and moved his arms and legs through the snow, and called out, “Hey Dean, I’m making a snow angel!”

The actual angel spectator tilted his head in amusement; he knew this term, having seen it featured in all of the knowledge Metatron stored in his mind. So, with an attempt at a teasing tone, he said, “I think I make a better one, if I’m being honest.”

With that, he fearlessly plopped face-down in the snow and mimicked Sam’s actions, pushing and pulling his limbs through the snow. He knew his attempt at humor worked when a new bout of laughter came from both hunters. After a moment, he sat up, and the brothers collapsed in another fit; his black hair, eyelashes, and clothes were absolutely covered in the white powder.

And while neither brother was looking, a full smile spread across the angel’s face. The brothers had been dealt a terrible lot in life; in the eight years since he met them, he had watched as the burden they carried pulled the light from their eyes. More often than not, he saw the replays of the trials they had faced pass over their eyes. Moments of happiness had vanished as quickly as they came, and to Castiel, that was the greatest tragedy of all. Killing Billie was not an easy choice; he understood, possibly more than anyone, that one choice can have an avalanche of consequences. Sometimes doing the right thing was still wrong. However, this world needed the Winchesters - and whether they fully understood it or not, so did he. So, in this small little pocket of time they could call their own, he made this moment count. Everything that Sam and Dean had been through, everything they had lost, everything they’ve had to do, made all these precious moments so much more valuable.

Castiel was Heaven’s perfect soldier. He was an obedient follower and a reliable leader. Until he met humanity, and so fell for all that it represented in this world. For their love and their compassion, for their tenacity and their forgiveness, their cheeseburgers and the Netflix, for snowball fights and these two humans who taught him the word Family.


End file.
